


Valkyrie

by Colin



Category: Hetalia: Another Color, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2P, 2P Austria (Hetalia), 2P England (Hetalia), 2P North Italy (Hetalia), 2P Spain (Hetalia), 2P Turkey (Hetalia), 2p Hungary (Hetalia), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Mythical Beings & Creatures, myth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:53:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9967424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colin/pseuds/Colin
Summary: Friedrich has made a plethora of mistakes over the course of his sorry existence, but, this time, he took it a step too far and "accidentally" killed her, "her" being his wife, Irén Valéria. However, he has no worries, he could simply go and retrieve her. At least, he could have if he had gotten to her earlier, before the Valkyrie did. She's out of his clutches, for now.I suck at these, I apologize.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my practice for descriptive writing, so bear with me.

The fire in the fireplace emitted a soft glow over the dimly lit foyer. The bearskin rug, the red, velvety cushioned chair, and the violet leather sofa cast great shadows across the floor. Iren wore a long, silver, silk dress with fur on the cuffs. She sat in the cushioned chair with a violet and ultramarine quilt around her, a little Luciano in his purple, satin pajamas sitting on the floor before her. Both of their faces were eerily illuminated by the firelight. Iren took care running her fingers through his silky, dark hair. Luciano had asked this of her because he was frightened. According to him, something awful was bound to happen, and he was in need of consolation from Iren specifically. Friedrich’s care was nowhere near enough. Friedrich was cold and aloof, devoid of things as gentle as love and compassion. Until recent time, the same was thought of Iren. Iren had somehow proven herself different along the way, to Luciano, at least.  
Luciano little resembled either of his parental figures. The simple thing the three held similar was hair color and texture, although Friedrich’s hair was coarser in texture than both Iren’s and Luciano’s. While Iren kept her long, flowing hair at its best along with Luciano’s shorter hair, Friedrich’s was cut unevenly along the edges, as he simply chopped off parts he viewed as too long. Friedrich’s hair was ugly. It was almost as ugly as his personality. He liked to have control. If not, there would be severe repercussions. The last he’d hit her was long ago, but something just as macabre had occurred recently. The apparent issue was that Iren could not recall. It had happened to her, but it was as if she was not there.  
In the back of Iren’s mind, there was a perpetual tingling. Something was amiss in this world. The fire flickered, going out seconds later. Luciano whimpered and leapt to his feet, Iren standing beside him. The bearskin rug appeared even more intimidating in the limited light from the window with its velvet curtains partially closed. The outside world was dark. She enveloped Luciano in the quilt with her. He held himself close to Iren with his head resting against her waist. Iren knelt in front of him, cupping his warm cheeks in her cold hands. “You poor child,” she spoke. In her mind, it echoed once over, the echo was far, far away. “You poor, pitiful child.”  
Luciano responded to her with voice of a grown man, “You poor, pitiful woman. You terrible mother.” She opened her eyes and saw. Her body was cold and clammy, but at the same time, feverish. The inside of her skin burned. At her bedside, Luciano sat with a cold, wet rag in his hand. “Friedrich refuses to see you still. Fucking bastard.”  
Her voice was ramshackle. “Because he did this.” She blinked. When her eyes closed, she was returned to the foyer with Luciano as a child clinging to her. Iren preferred to have her eyes open. Whether she had her eyes open or not, her breath was short. “He did this to get rid of me for disobeying him.”  
“He did it to the both of us. You aren’t the only one suffering here.” Luciano wiped some strands of her hair from her face. “He did this to my mother.” He returned to running his hands through her hair, as she had done for him those few times alone. It was as she was doing to him as a child behind her eyes right at that moment.  
“I am not your mother.” She breathily answered him.  
Luciano frowned at the quality of her voice. “Save it.” He took her hand in his. It was much warmer than hers. He gave a resigned sigh. “Please do this one nice thing for me. You’re leaving me alone with Friedrich.”  
“It’s Friedrich’s fault.”  
“And you’re going away,” he continued as if she had never spoken, “Perhaps some place better. A place like Heaven.”  
Iren mirthlessly laughed at him. “You and I,” she took a shaky breath, “both know where I am going. I was not enough. I am not enough.”  
“You’ve done enough. In fact,” he paused, searching her face, “thank you, mama.”  
Her face was suddenly pain stricken, as she suddenly tightly gripped his hand. “Run away. Run away for me, all right? I’m so scared... so scared to die, but I have to. Promise me.”  
He gave a resolute nod. “I promise. After you go, I will.”  
Iren’s breathing steadied, her eyes slowly closing. “Then go,” she now spoke to Luciano as a small child behind her eyes. “Go now.”  
Her breathing ceased.  
She stood in the foyer alone, the three-inch heels on her feet making them ache, as if she had been standing for some time. Her heels clicked as she walked to the door that led to the darkness outside. She hesitated, for she knew what awaited her on the other side of it and feared it. Regardless of her fears, she twisted the knob, bracing herself for what she knew she would face, and gingerly began to pull the door open when a hand stopped her. It was a feminine hand, but not dainty in the least. The woman was stronger than Iren.  
“Sister, do not resign yourself to that abyss.” The unfamiliar woman told her. Although Iren was intimidated by the sound of her voice that resonated throughout her body and the hand that had had much more strength and experience than Iren had, it was still a simple request of her. Iren turned to face the woman who called her sister. She was beautiful woman with short, dark hair that remained in tight coils on top of her head. Her skin was dark and smooth like chocolate. Iren marveled at the woman’s fuller lips, unintentionally comparing them to her own thinner lips and imagining the feel of them. The woman wore silver armor that perfectly fitted to her for the utmost versatility in battle.  
“Resign myself? This is the end. I am done.” Iren refuted. How could this woman call her “sister” and wish for her not to move on?  
“There are better places for you, sister. Join the Valkyries. You are strong, stronger than most, and you would be a great asset to our ranks.” Her hand was in a clutched into a fist above her armor over her heart as a show of sincerity. “Join us, sister.”  
Iren considered the other woman’s words. “You believe me to be strong? You are wrong. You’re wrong. I’m not enough. I’m not enough for anything!”  
The woman straightened her posture, lowering her hand from her chest plate. “I see that I must show you your strength, sister.” She extended her hand to Iren. “Take my hand; I will show you.” Her eyes lay on Iren as Iren remained frozen in place. “I will cure you of that poison to show you.” With those last words, she reached out and gingerly took Iren’s hand. Her hand was much stronger than Iren’s, and she held her hand as if keeping some great strength at bay. When their skin touched, a white light emitted from their connected palms and the fire reignited in the fireplace.  
Embers popped from the fire, landing on the furniture and rug, all of which became aflame. The fire spread from the furniture to the curtains, eventually, the whole room was ablaze. Iren breathed in smoke that burned her lungs. Her eyes teared up and she withdrew her hand from the Valkyrie in a coughing fit. Soon, the flames reached her skin, and it burned. Through it all, Iren only coughed and cried.  
Lastly, she lost consciousness.


End file.
